


Hello, Charlotte

by jpntofu



Category: Hello Charlotte (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-ish, M/M, Short Story, charles eyler - Freeform, gay people, heaven’s gate, heavy suicide implications, hello charlotte - Freeform, kinda very sad, vincent fennell - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 15:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21340318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jpntofu/pseuds/jpntofu
Summary: “Do you want to meet?”“Oh, sure.”“Good. Me too.”“Where do you live?”“A hospital.”
Relationships: Charles Eyler/Vincent Fennell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Hello, Charlotte

Charles Eyler. A man I had known for awhile now, but had only just met. He was tall; taller than me, at least. His hair was short, sleek, and pitch black. It suited him well. He had a very poised posture, and had a very ethereal aura to him. His eyes were the color of sunshine, and they shone just as bright. All of these charming features were complemented by his clothing: a nicely tailored suit with black gloves to match. I must admit, it came as a bit of a shock to me when seeing him in person. We had only talked in a chatroom prior to that day, and he had gone by the online persona of a girl named Charlotte. The turn of events was not expected, but it was quite exciting to meet him nonetheless.

He opened his mouth to speak to me for the first time, and his voice held a slight regal presence to it, “You must be Vincent. It’s nice to meet you.”

I had to admit, hearing my name from his mouth made a slight blush creep onto my face. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice. Or, if he had, he didn’t mention anything about it.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I assume you’re Charlotte?” I let out a small chuckle.

He laughed softly at my joke before an apologetic look washed over his face. “This must be incredibly confusing to you. I’m terribly sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, really,” I said as I shook my head.

To be honest, I didn’t mind at all. Yes, it was a bit of a shock and a little bit confusing, but nothing that I couldn’t handle. He looked quite different from his online persona; Charlotte was a girl with white, long, curly hair and soft yellow eyes. We would often discuss our personal theories on what we believed happened after death. Maybe there was an afterlife that we were taken to, or maybe some form of reincarnation. It was all we would talk about. Most of our theories were similar, and it comforted both of us to know that someone thought the same as ourselves. Although, it is not like we bonded over that topic alone. We’d talk about our day to each other, and if there was something we needed to get off of our chest, the other was all ears and happy to listen. A friendship had sort of developed between us over the past few months, if I’d be so bold to call it a friendship. Calling Charles my friend felt like a step too far than what felt appropriate. But, what else would I call him? Calling him an acquaintance felt too distant, but ‘online pen-pal’ sounded too formal. Just saying he was ‘someone I knew’ sounded like I was trying to distance myself from him. The only descriptor I could use was ‘friend’ and even that felt wrong.

“Are you alright? You look pale,” Charles asked quietly. It brought me back from my thoughts.

“Oh, yes. Sorry about that. How about we sit down?” I smiled and started to head towards a chair in the lobby. Charles nodded and followed.

Charles had come to visit me in the hospital. I had recently been admitted. It wasn’t anything that I was unfamiliar with. The hospital was almost like a second home to me at this point; I was in and out of it so often that someone could guess I live here. I didn’t exactly mind, though. The hospital was peaceful, and there was never much noise. I was given a lot of computer time, and the meals were alright. The staff was understanding of my requests, even if they were a little odd at times. They were probably tired of seeing me in all the time, though. I can’t exactly blame them. It’s a wonder that they still found ways to be kind to me after seeing me all the time.

“How have you been doing? You said you had just gotten here recently,” Charles asked, observing around the lobby.

I shuffled in my seat a bit. My mouth felt dry. “I’ve been fine. This isn’t anything I’m not used to.”

A small awkward silence followed.

Charles cleared his throat, “Do you get computer time here?”

Finally, something not as awkward.

“Oh, yes! Technically, we are only allowed a maximum of an hour on the computer, but the nurses are pretty lenient with me. They allow me to be on as much as I want,” I said as I stifled a laugh.

Charles raised his eyebrows. The look was something pleasing to his features. It is true that the nurses gave me more time on mostly everything I was given access to. After about the fifth or sixth time I was admitted here, the staff began to loosen their formality with me. It was a bittersweet transition. While I did like having more freedom and time on things I normally wouldn’t get to have, the fact that they had to see me that often cut a scar into my heart. No one should have had to be to the hospital that often. It just got to be pitiful.

“Do you get any more privileges?” He asked me, attention on me but elsewhere at the same time.

The word ‘privileges’ stung. It made me feel like I was somehow above all the other patients. I didn’t want that, anything but that. I wanted to be just a normal patient, here for some help. Though, I really didn’t know what kind of help I could receive at that point. I had fallen into a sick cycle of being hurt, coming to the hospital, getting released then repeating. My various trips to the hospital weren’t any secret, either. It was very apparent on my face. They were always covered with bandages and swabs of cotton. My eyes often held dark rings under them from lack of sleep or from the amount of stress I endured daily. It was most likely a combination of both. I had no motivation in me to take care of my hair, so it was always pinned back in a low, loose ponytail. It would fall out easily, leaving it looking coarse and frizzy. To be honest, I probably looked like a wreck. Well, actually, scratch that. I did look like a wreck. Charles must have been incredibly disappointed upon seeing me. I almost felt the need to apologize.

I shook my head before realizing I hadn’t answered Charles’s question. I cleared my throat, “Well, I wouldn’t exactly call them privileges. It’s not like I get to do things others can’t while here. The nurses are pretty lenient with me, though.”

“What does that mean?” He asked, seeming to be intrigued for the first time since our meeting here.

I smiled softly, happy that he was somewhat interested in what my life was like. “They just let me have more time on things than the other patients.”

Charles nodded, spacing out yet again. He seemed to be uncomfortable. His eyes were always on the walls, tables, or chairs, and they rarely even laid upon me. Something in my gut told me to leave. It told me to get up and just run out of there right then and there. It was scolding me for even thinking this meeting was going to go smoothly, much less it go pleasantly. I felt like I was going to be sick, so I tried to find something to distract myself. My eyes grazed around the room before they finally landed on Charles’s gloves.

“I’m sorry for asking, but what are those gloves for? Is it just to complete the look?” I laughed a bit, trying my best to add humor to the situation. It didn’t seem to work based on the look Charles gave me.

He shifted in his seat a bit and tightened his grip on his hands, ever so slightly wincing. “No, they aren’t just to complete the look. They serve a purpose.”

I was intrigued, so I waited for him to finish his explanation of their purpose. There was a long, painfully awkward pause before he spoke again.

“They protect my hands,” He muttered.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my question sounding a bit too rushed. I immediately wanted to curl up and cease to exist.

Charles smiled, but he looked so unbelievably uncomfortable that is looked forced and insincere. Charles opened his mouth to speak, but he soon closed it without making a sound. He then started to remove his gloves, but I could tell he was very reluctant to do so. I stared at his hands with intense focus, trying not to make direct eye contact. Once one of his gloves were off, I saw that they were covered in dark red-black scabs, and some of his fingers were wrapped in bandages. There were also small cuts among his palm. They looked utterly pitiful. I caught a glimpse of his other hand, and it looked exactly the same. My throat felt tight when I swallowed.

Charles sighed softly, “It’s horrible, isn’t it?”

If he was expecting an answer to that, I didn’t give him one. It was even harder to look at him now. The room felt stuffy; too small. It really shouldn’t have, the room was actually incredibly big, and had plenty of space. But, the atmosphere was so suffocating and heavy that I felt crushed. Charles began to scratch at his hand before quickly putting his gloves back on. Another long silence fell upon us. I could tell we both wanted to speak, but neither of us actually wanted to start the conversation. Charles looked up from his hands and cleared his throat. My heart lightened a little when he looked as if he was going to speak. But, it was immediately shot down when he shook his head and closed his mouth. I decided that the silence was never going to end if I didn’t speak up sooner or later, so I went with the only thought I had.

“What do they protect you from?” I asked, my voice shaky and foregin to me. I didn’t feel like myself.

Charles looked genuinely surprised by my question, as if he somehow expected me to already know the answer. The look quickly faded away from his face.

“Oh, well, a lot of things, really. They protect me from germs, from my scars and cuts opening up…” Charles trailed off from his sentence, shame and embarrassment clouding his face.

I never should have asked that.

“Are you afraid of germs?”

I shouldn’t have asked that either. Every question I asked felt like a knife digging deeper into my throat.

Charles chuckled softly, “Afraid is an understatement. I--er--have mysophobia, a severe fear of germs. I can’t stand them. I wear the gloves so I don’t have to worry about them getting onto me.”

“If you wear gloves all the time, why do you have scars and bandages on your hands?” I inquired. I hope I didn’t come off as too rude.

Charles looked at his hands as he spoke. “I wash them frequently. The gloves can only do so much.”

I nodded in response, unable to find the appropriate words to say. Everything I asked felt like I was prying too much, and Charles looked like he couldn’t possibly get any more uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. My mind raced for something, anything to talk about. I got an idea.

“It’s kind of odd how we have only talked over the computer until now, huh?” I somehow found it in myself to smile. Charles returned it.

“That is pretty odd, isn’t it? I’m honestly pretty honored to be able to meet you so personally,” Charles stated.

Well, that definitely brought a blush to my face. Honored?

“Why are you so honored? I’m merely a person,” I chuckled softly, trying my best to hide my embarrassment.

Charles laughed. If perfection had a sound, it would be his laugh.

“Are you kidding? You are incredibly well-known online. I know plenty of people that would kill to even match icons with you,” Charles explained.

My cheeks flared with heat, and I couldn’t help but smile. It felt nice to know that, at least to someone, I held some importance. Charles glanced at the clock on the wall behind me. Finding topics of conversation was getting hard, and I knew neither of us could hold out much longer. Both of us were just avoiding the inevitable, but neither of us wanted to admit it.

At least my last living moments were with someone so important to me.

A stiffening silence filled the room. We both knew exactly what the other was thinking. Our silence said enough. Both of us were avoiding eye contact, not daring to even catch a glance at the other’s eyes. I tried desperately to find a topic to discuss, darting my eyes around the room in search for a starter of conversation. Nothing caught my attention. Charles shuffled in his seat and cleared his throat.

“I guess we have no other choice than to go on with it, huh?” I asked, trying my best to smile.  
It didn’t work.

Charles nodded a little. He didn’t seem to actually process what I said. I understood; I wouldn’t be able to either. I stood up. That seemed to break him out of his daze. He stood up as well.

“So… the roof, right?” Charles asked. He sounded distant.

Was it him or me that was distant? I couldn’t tell.

“Yes, the roof,” I whispered.

My voice didn’t sound like mine. It sounded wrong, like someone was making me say the words. Awkwardly, we both walked over to the door that accessed the roof. It was steel, an ugly shade of green, and looked worn-away. I was surprised at how… used it looked. I never saw anyone going to the roof, so I didn’t understand why it looked so frequently used. Charles reached for the handle, but hesitated above it. I glanced at his gloves before I took the handle and opened the door. He looked at me and gave me a silent nod before ascending up the stairs. I guessed it was to say thank you. I followed him, quietly closing the door behind me. I wonder why the nurses didn’t question why I was going to the roof. Maybe they were tired of me, or maybe they wanted to get rid of me.

At least I gave them what they wanted.

The chilly evening air gently rushed over my face once I had arrived onto the roof. It was sunset, and the sky was just turning into that dreamy color of pink and orange. The view from the roof was breathtaking. I regretted not going up there more often. Charles was standing at the edge of the roof, looking out at the sky. The wind was blowing his hair softly. I walked over to him quietly, joining him by his side. I looked out over the roof. It truly was a beautiful sight. My hair grazed by cheek.

“It’s wonderful,’ Charles whispered.

“It really is,” I replied. I was at a loss for words.

Charles took his eyes off the sky and landed them on me. I returned his gaze. His raven-black hair was a contrasting color to the sunlight and was gently blowing in his face, covering his eyes ever so slightly. His eyes looked into mine; a pair of radiant, shining golden eyes looking into a pair of sulken, dull gray pools. The sunset rested on half of his face, coating it in a brilliant shade of orange. It made his pale skin look unrealistically perfect. I envied him for his looks.

“I’m glad we got to meet, Charles,” I said, my voice faltering ever so slightly.

He smiled.

His smile.

I wish I could have seen that smile so much more. It was more breathtaking than the sunset. He grabbed my hands, not taking his gaze off of mine.

“I am glad we got to meet, too, Vincent,” He choked up, letting a tear run down his cheek. He quickly rubbed it away.

My heart sounded too loud. It hurt my ears.

“Is this really it?”

I really didn’t need to ask. I just felt like I needed to say something. Anything.

Charles nodded, taking his hands from mine. My palms felt cold. I looked down at my hands, wanting to avoid eye contact with Charles for some reason. My hands were pale and somewhat bony. I figured it was because of my poor health.

“Vincent,” Charles said, “look at me, please?”

Hesitantly, I looked up at him. He had a way of making the outside world look insignificant. Like, somehow, he was the only thing in the world that mattered. Charles leaned in carefully and gave me a gentle kiss. My mind ran blank, and my cheeks flared. But, I found comfort in it. It felt like the one thing I needed. He pulled away, and then slowly began to take off his gloves. He set them on the edge of the roof’s ledge. His rough, scarred hands took mine, squeezing them a little too tightly. They felt warm.

Both of us turned to look over the edge. The hospital was a pretty big building, and it had plenty of floors. So, we were up pretty high. The ground was silent and empty. I expected it to be as such, seeing as it was sunset and not many people liked to walk around that late. Charles’s breath hitched softly, and I could feel him stiffen. I squeezed his hand softly, showing him that there was nothing to be afraid of. Though, I really don’t know if that's what I believed. Maybe if I told him, I would believe it too. He exhaled shakily.

“I hope we meet in the next life,” I smiled.

He smiled back. It was genuine.

“We will.”


End file.
